


Sweeter Than Candy

by Leticheecopae



Category: Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: Blood, Death, F/M, Gore, M/M, Multi, Sexual Themes, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leticheecopae/pseuds/Leticheecopae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oogie Boogie had known that candy would never be able to cut it for everyone, and once he was gone his henchmen had to agree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweeter Than Candy

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah...so this was my OT3 before I even knew what that was. Enjoy, and sorry for any errors.

Candy doesn’t cut it anymore. Everyone in the town must have known it wouldn’t, because Oogie Boogie had known, and he knew Jack most certainly did. Either that, or the pumpkin king was too caught up in trying to make the worlds a better place, where harmony ran rampant, and even though they were children’s worst nightmares, they could still somehow coexist with the humans. He didn’t seem to get that not everything could just be rattling chains and whispers in the wind. He didn’t understand that some monsters would always have an ache in their bellies and souls without the taste of fresh meat.

Oogie had.

“Live a natural life in trade of your soul, or let it end now.” Lock kept his voice level, business like, and just the bit snide.

Lock had known the candy would never fill him up. It hadn’t filled up his Dad, neither had the random corpses that appeared in the grave yards. No one questioned how the dead came to their realm, they just did, and you didn’t question where your food source came from. The bodies were already cold by then though, or a new resident, and the souls of the cadavers had long moved on. What was a demon if he couldn’t devour the soul? Before Oogie had taken him in, before Lock’s old man had shriveled up and turned to dust, Lock had only ever heard about eating them, about the times before Jack’s grandfather and his spreading ideals about not fighting humans. The older Skellington had poisoned them with that, about how if they just stopped scaring humans, and lived apart in their own world, there wouldn’t have to be any death anymore for either group. A fine idea, but skeletons don’t need to eat, werewolves can survive on dead flesh along with most other creatures, and the vampires always had the blood banks. The demons and devils? Well, there was a reason they were a dying breed in Halloween town, enigmas that had mostly disappeared from both worlds. Sometimes, Lock wondered if he would go to hell when he ‘died’. If his father had made it there, he went without a soul in his belly. Lock’s mother was there, his father had assured him of that. Told him she had a belly full of souls she couldn’t wait to take down to the devil. Would he call the Devil grandpa when he made his way down below?

“Whatever he chooses, I need his damn toes, I’m running low.” Shock’s voice is deeper than it had been as a child’s, but the bossiness hasn’t left it, though now it is steadfast in its commands.

Shock doesn’t need souls. She can eat whatever she wants, and feel full. Pickled bats wing, congealed lizard gizzard, it doesn’t matter. She had grown, and with height came hips, and the barest of breasts. She was far from beautiful, but beauty had never been high on anyone’s list in Halloween town. Instead of appeal, Shock held a power in her that made people take notice when she entered the shops around town. Power, that was what she was hungry for. There were spells she had found, old ones, deep in Oogies home that Jack hadn’t been able to burn. The ingredients are hard to come by, even impossible at times with the corpses they have in Halloween town. She never can be sure if the heart she holds gave out from fear or a clot without having been there during the time of death. For the spells she wants, needs, Shock needs her ingredients fresh.

“Come on, just let me have him. Please, it’s been so long,” Barrel whines at them as he dances a small jig from one foot to the other. Barrel is still a child at heart, whining for what he wants, a tad shorter than them both, and ten times as blood thirsty.

Barrel had been the first to realize the candy wasn’t filling him up anymore. When he did, the fat he had gathered over the years of gorging on the stuff, keeping the hunger at bay, melted off him. It was like watching those strange candles that tried to mimic melting flesh, only flameless, and a lot less messy. He had gone bone thin after their equivalent of puberty, all rubber band tight muscle and pointed joints, his eyes almost as sunken in as Jacks. The dead flesh in the graveyard barely filled him, even when it was a full body. That was the problem with Zombies, they never could be satiated on flesh that wasn’t warm. They needed the warmth to digest right, and the screams made it go down so much easier.

“F-fuck you guys.” The kid is scared out of his mind, even as he tries to put up a brave front. Lock is standing before him, a cutting image of lean muscle with the tiniest Goatee, and his horns glinting in the light of the back alley. He already knew this one was going to be Barrel’s, he had gotten his fill already tonight. A little old man who wanted nothing more than lottery ticket numbers, which were easy enough to steal, with a witch on his side. He could feel the soul in him jerking pleasantly, slowly being broken down to be nothing, but another part of his collection. It would last a few years, just like the little girl who wanted a pony, and the mother needing a spiced up sex life. Lock always gave them what they wanted, just didn’t let on about the side effects of demons deals. Like how ponies became more prone to trample, or how old hearts were so susceptible to excitement, and why it was important to have safe words with bondage.

“Not really our thing,” Shock replies blandly to the kid. She leans against the wall, picking dried blood beneath her nails. The old man had given her some rather nice teeth.

It had only been a year since she had perfected the spell that let them travel to the human world without having to use the designated splicing points in town. They were always heavily monitored. It had taken time, a long time, and lots of trial and error before Shock got it right. Lock’s right horn still hadn’t fully grown back from their first sketchy attempt.

Shock’s eyes stay locked on the kids feet. Barrel will have to be careful with this one. They are low on toes and tongues if Lock remembers correctly, and collecting them right after death, or during life, is so much better than the shit in the graves. Shock would have taken the old mans toes, but they were too withered to be of use, his tongue corrupted by too much smoke.

“The offer of your soul for your life going once, going twice,” Lock twirls his hand as the boney form of Barrel suddenly lunges. The human howls for a moment before his throat is a gaping hole.

“Watch the tongue,” Shock says blandly, and Lock notes that Barrel is getting better at remembering the shopping list. Barrel simply reached into the still moving jaw, attempting to provide sound without air or vocal cords, and tears the tongue out. It is easy, since he had already bitten through the base of it inside the neck. Shock catches it without a flinch before twirling her finger and having the thing wrapped in brown paper and twine. She wipes her hand on skirt as the package disappears into the folds of fabric.

“Fuck, he tastes good,” Barrel groans as he tears in again, chewing once or twice before swallowing full chunks. He’ll be in Locks bed when they got back, always is after a kill. Rarely does he end up in Shocks, the witches idea of ‘foreplay’ never really being his thing. He never had liked how salty she tasted, or how cold she feels. Lock doesn’t have such qualms towards her cold body, or Barrel’s burning one. The Zombie always has a constant fever.

“You want us to leave while you play with your food?” Lock asks as he steps back. Blood sprays from a vein. The kids still alive. Lock has to give him prompts for hanging on this long. The kid has spirit that was for sure, a strong soul, and Lock is tempted to take the soul just because, but that’s against the rules. A demon taking a soul without a deal will end up with a stomach ache. Lock had learned that the hard way.

He isn’t surprised when Barrel pauses, head relaxing back as he stares at the sky with half closed and pleasure filled eyes. He leans his head back to look at Lock, and there are lines of bloodlust dripping down his chin. His green hair is buzzed so short to his head it looked like moss, and as he stares at Lock with blood dripping down his face, he is truly horrifying. Lock’s cock twitches. It wouldn’t be the first time Barrel has gotten off while eating fresh meat.

“We don’t have time for you to savor him,” Shock interrupts as she steps forwards, a silver blade being pulled from the folds of her skirt as she kneels down and yanks the shoes off the kids twitching feet. Unlike Locks, she doesn’t care about the blood getting on her clothes and shoes. She begins slicing off toes as Barrel goes back to work swallowing as much flesh as he can. He had started making quite a name for himself with the police. They still can’t figure out what kind of animal has such strange, sharp, almost human teeth, and three long toes. Zombies and their weird mutations, though who was Lock to judge, he has one cloven hoof. He had been made to hide it as a child, but now he lets the world see it with pride. At least, at home he does. Shock had some wonderful disguising charms for when they are among the warm blooded.

“She’s right,” Lock says with a sigh as he hears sirens. They are still a long ways off at least. Someone must have heard the scream. “Grab what you both want. Let’s get going.” Lock has to take a deep breath when Barrel stops chewing and starts swallowing flesh whole. He knows all too well what that throat can do. 

Barrel helps Shock pull out the inner organs she wants, and eats those she doesn’t, finishing off the chest cavity in record time. Lock just stands, listening as the sounds of sirens get closer, and watches the wisp of a soul disappear into the night air. He’s a bit sad he couldn’t eat it, it looked like it would have been delicious.

“Good thing that crap about zombie bites is bullshit,” he says as Barrel finally stands, smearing the blood around his mouth with a hand as he swallows one last bite. Shock stands as well, empty handed, but her skirt has smears of different bodily fluids on it, and looks just a little larger than it had before.

“Let’s go.” It is a command as she goes to the wall they had came from, and pushes. The brick gives easily under her hand thanks to her spell. She doesn’t wait for them to follow before disappearing inside. It will be their fault if they don’t follow quickly enough. Lock goes to enter, when a wet and warm hand grips his wrist.   
Lock turns to find Barrel grinning and holding out a piece of meat. “Saved you the liver,” Barrel tells him, and it’s amazing he can still sound so damn happy when he looks like death warmed over. With fresh flesh in his belly, that description works quite well. 

Lock smiles and reaches for the flesh, but Barrel jerks it back. He puts it between his teeth and leans forwards. The trick is a bit annoying with the sirens being so close, but the game is nevertheless exciting. Any moment the cops will come around that corner and they could be caught. It is a thrill to think that they could be the reasons people believe in ghouls and goblins again.

Leaning forwards, Lock sinks pointed teeth into the flesh, lips brushing Barrels as Barrel’s teeth sink in deeper to the flesh. They pulled at the same time, the meat tearing and separating before both chew the hunks of flesh in their mouths. Lock licks his lips thoughtfully. Barrel is right, the kid does taste good. Hot, sweet, and salty with the tang of copper. His soul would have been good.

“You’re room,” Barrel asks around his mouthful. Lock nods as the bloodied nightmare of his friend grins, and heads through the wall. Lock follows, pushing the brick back just as he hears the first foot falls down the alley. The stone grates slightly before it is back to its original form. Running a finger over the ‘chalk’ outline of the door, Lock hears Barrel head up the stairs.

“Hey Barrel,” he calls as he wiped away the powder that let them slip between worlds, a mixture of bones, and other petrified body parts. He hears the footsteps halt halfway up the stairs.

“Don’t clean off, I want to do that myself.” He hears a sigh from Shock as she puts things away behind him, but he doesn’t care. She’ll get hers, and she knows it. Hell, if she’s in the mood, she might even join them. Either way, Lock doesn’t have to look up to know Barrel is smiling at him, sunken eyes gleaming at him as he licks at his lips that are dripping a liquid that is much more filling than candy.


End file.
